


A book.

by onionkun



Series: "Brought Us Together" [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 11:42:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17580158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onionkun/pseuds/onionkun
Summary: He was very charming, but you were curious on what he was reading so you took a peek behind the screen to look at the cover. He was reading the third novel of Sherlock Holmes, the very one you have! It's not that it bothered you or anything, just confuse on how the same coincidental event happens every time: you checked one of the books, he also checks out the other copy.





	A book.

Nodding silently as you listen to your friend's constant chatter "That's great, I'm glad you guys are together now but I think his statement was a little far, don't you think?" You glanced at the tulip-shaped clock hanging on the wall by your desk, noticing that your break was over. "Oh, my break is over, so can you call me later when I'm home?" you asked your friend through the phone, which she agreed and said your goodbyes to each other.

Stepping outside the office, you put your long (colour) hair up in a bun, fixing some of the loose strands. The other assistant gave you a friendly nod, when he saw you, before scanning the books of a customer. You gave a smile before both of you change shifts.

As you can guess, you work in a small, yet grand, library. Tall bookshelves—of mahogany—are lined up on the cream-coloured walls, and some in an organized line, that are polished to perfection. Few of the rectangular shaped windows are raised due to the spring season. Round tables, which are the same kind of wood as the shelves, were dispersed in the room, along with several Wordsworth accent chairs of the same colour. Paintings of Claude Monet are hung near the entrance and behind the counter. A snack bar is also presented, consisting of a coffee maker, cups, spoons, and a series of instant teas, little sugar and cream packets.

Two speakers are set up on the corners of the room, playing classical music to soothe the customers or readers mind. It also soothed your mind as you go through the library's computer to update some stuff, leaning on your elbow on top of the white oak counter. Behind the very counter is the employees' office—well, it's really your office, just letting everyone who works here to enter.

Your (colour) eyes flicker here and there, as you skim through the files very grimly. Well to one regular English customer that is. Glancing away from the computer for a second, you made eye contact with the said customer. He was sitting on one of the chairs, but this particular chair is angled directly at the counter next to the last shelves by the entrance.

He was far although you can clearly see some of his facial features. Both of you avert your gazes quickly, having a tint of crimson on your cheeks. Completely flustered over that, you pretended to do something on the computer. He, on the other hand, took another nervous sip from his cup of tea and returned to his book—embarrassed, too.

To you, he was very charming, but you were curious on what he was reading so you took a peek behind the screen to look at the cover. He was reading the third novel of Sherlock Holmes, the very one you have! It's not that it bothered you or anything, just confuse on how the same coincidental event happens every time: you checked one of the books, he also checks out the other copy.

Apparently, there are only two copies of the first three novels of Sherlock Holmes. The last novel, however, is arriving tomorrow and it's the only copy the library will have. You sighed and actually do your work, scratching the back of your neck to reduce some stress on it. Instantly, the speakers began to play the 'winter' season of the 'Four Seasons' by Vivaldi. This movement gave you such a calm feeling that you would want to close your eyes and just listen—good thing there weren't that much people today. But not before long, the regular customer began to walk up the counter.

You stiffened, but still did your work as a library aide "May I help you, sir?"

"Ah… uhm…yes", he stuttered, "There is no more water for coffee." Hearing his voice up close, with his accent, was mesmerizing. Up close, you clearly saw his complexion, his emerald eyes, his choppy blonde hair, and his thick eyebrows—which you thought was very cute.  _Wait…_  you thought for a moment and remembering he only drinks tea. Accidentally, you blurted out "But you only drink tea!"

Completely taken aback by your statement, your eyes—and his—were wide "Pardon?" You shook your head and told him that you are going to refill the coffee maker. Hastily going inside your office with crimson cheeks, you asked yourself why you said something ridiculous and embarrassing. Now I've done it… sighing to yourself as you get a container out of the fridge inside the office, stepping outside and walk towards the snack bar.

He seems to be watching your every move, making you even more embarrass, so you avoided eye-contact (it seems the natural thing to do). While you were busy avoiding his eyes, he watched as your long, (colour) skirt sway with your every move, thinking that the colour actually suits you. He gave a small smile and decided to go where you're at.

Over at the snack table, you were quietly mumbling to yourself about what you did while refilling the coffee maker. You were interrupted by a sudden tap on your shoulder, causing you to turn around "Need some help, love?" The English man suggested but you declined—even though you still have a pink hue on your cheeks. "No thank you, I certainly don't want a customer troubling himself over something little like this." He chuckled before he added haughtily "But a gentleman doesn't let a lady to do the work."

You turned to him again, him noticing that there was a smirk and an arch eyebrow on your features "What do you mean? I thought sexism was not a problem nowadays" you playfully said, both of you ended up laughing. "I am not implying that, Miss…?"

"(Name)"

"Ms. (Name), you must have misunderstood." You gave a questioningly look before walking back, and surprisingly he was walking back with you "No Mister…"

"Arthur" he said in between. "Mr. Arthur, I think you did. I was only joking." He stayed in front of the counter as you went inside the office to place the container back where it came from. As he was waiting for you, he seemed to catch a book—he also has—near the computer's keyboard. He noticed it was the third novel of Sherlock Holmes, noting that both of you have something in common.

"A fellow Sherlockian, I see?" Arthur inquired as you went back to the counter. Earning a pink hue again, you nodded "Yes, and I suppose you, too?" Obviously you already knew, but kept it a secret. "Of course, I am only reading what you have in this library of yours. I know that you knew I'm a fan, too" said Arthur in an oh-so smug way. He knew you were observing him as he was observing you, too.

You had bit the inside of your lip as you nod, but you told him that you noticed he was watching you, too. He had a small blush on his cheeks as he stuttered honestly that he was. You gave a chuckle at his actions. "Oh (Name)," he abruptly said, formalities gone and his blush was still visible, "I was going to ask you if you have the last novel by Doyle."

"Yes we do, but it will be here tomorrow morning. Although it's the only copy that will be here—because of money problems" you mumbled the last part.

He said it was okay and he suggested for you to read it first, but you suggested for him to read it while saying enthusiastically that customer-priority rule. He chuckled at your childish tone, glad to know that he's not the only one with the whole rules thing. "I wish there's a way where we can read it together…" you whispered in a hopeful tone, unfortunately the English man heard it "We can read it together!" he said, cheerfully. You tilted your head in confusion "I'll check the book out. We can read the book outside, since you don't work on days like tomorrow."

"That's really smart of you, Mr. Arthur. Having the knowledge on what days where I work or not" you jokingly informed. He sheepishly smiles while scratching his head, saying he was observing you long enough to know.

Blushing and smiling at him, you gradually agreed to his offer. Both of you decided to meet up at the near-by park and continued to chat until the sun set and it was time to close the library.

  
  


The next day, you were wearing a (colour) spring dress and your long hair was down. The two of you exchanged numbers yesterday, so he could tell you what time you two were supposed to meet up. Suddenly, your phone vibrated inside your pocket and a text from self-deprecating English man:

_'I just checked out the book and I'm walking outside the library. Let's meet up at the park, okay?'_

Right on cue from fate, you two had bumped into each other. Saying your apologies to each other, you noticed that Arthur looked so dashing with his simple attire. His hair was slightly combed, wearing one of his white dress shirt and black dress pants, and a pair of dark brown loafers.

With that you decided to joke around with him "You're so dashing, Arthur. With your outfit, you look like you're on a date."

He was also examining you, the way your (colour) hair flow with the wind, how your (colour) dress fits you—checking some curves along the way—and your beige sandals that show your (skin colour) feet. Your complexion took his breath away, but with your statement, his cheeks earned a magenta hue before grumbly stating "It's not like I invited you for no reason… You also… looked dashing."

Now it's your time to earn that same hue and mumbling sorry, making you cuter to the English man "Uh… no it's okay. I… have the book," he said, showing you the book while grabbing your hand, "so let's go?" Your blush still intact but you nodded your head. What happened to his personality yesterday? You don't know, though right now you were enjoying the moment he was holding your hand.  
  


He led you through one shady tree in the park, letting go of your hand—disappointed on what he did—and offered you to sit down on the shade. You sat down on the soft while arranging your dress; he sat down close to you, grabbing the book and opening its hardcover. Both of you started reading with the same pace but…

You were uncomfortable with the position you're at (not that being close to Arthur was uncomfortable). Even though it was such a childish thing to do—blushing as you did so, you pat Arthur on the shoulder to let him stop reading, raising his arms—still holding the book—and sitting down on his legs, your back facing him, while placing his arms back.

Arthur was bewildered—rather blushing and enjoying it—as to you why you did. You looked at him, blush on your face, grumbly saying "Well… it was not comfortable where I was at. And this is… the only thing I could think of, so don't judge me." He chuckled at your childish remark but he agreed for you to sit on his legs, even though he was kind of feeling rather queasy about it. He moves his legs a little further so you were kind of sitting on the grass. Now you can read comfortably, a little restless here and there, but you can now focus into reading the book.

It seems like the two of you were reading with the same speed. For example, after reading one page he would eventually flip the page, and so on. You gave a small smile while reading so intently.

While you have your entire attention on the book, you didn't notice that Arthur was gently taking sniffs of your soft hair. He was always questioning himself on what kind of flavour of shampoo you use, and finally he found out.

"What are you doing, Arthur?"

He stiffened. Cheeks flushed and eyes wide, he was caught on what he was doing. He knew his heart was acting thumping like crazy and that you can feel it. "Uh… nothing" he choked after being flustered. Simply narrowing your eyes, you can sense he was lying—just by his heartbeat and all. You turned your whole body to look at him and asked again. He sighed, knowing that there was no escape to it "I was just simply smelling your hair."

Although shocked, you asked again and watching as he put a hand on his face, attempting to hide a blush that was growing "I was curious, I've always wanted to know what shampoo do you use for your hair… b-but that's not the only thing I want to know, (Name)…" You gave him a questioning look as he grabbed both of your hands in his and looking dead straight in the eyes: (colour) meeting green. "(Name), I-I want to know everything about you, I mean, not just by watching. I want to know your likes and dislikes, what you did before I met you—and certainly your likes."

You were sure that blood was rushing up to your cheeks as your heart thumped like it wanted to be free. You—both of you—were thinking the same thing, you always wanted to know everything ever since from the start. And for him to say that, for him to saying your thoughts… you were going to be crazy.

He leaned his face closer to yours "(Name)," feeling his breath on top of your lips, "I like you b-but I don't know how to express it before until now… so (Name) do you like me back?"

"No, I don't like you," his grip on you loosened a bit as he heard your statement, "I love you with my entire being, Arthur." From that statement, the English man regained his smile—and blush—before placing his lips on top of yours. You were surprised but you hastily kissed back, tasting that morning tea he must've drink.

True to his nature, his kiss were gentle but he wanted more (what can I say, he was waiting for this). Although he'll wait for that moment to come, he pulled away and rested his forehead on yours; you giggled at his actions.

His thick eyebrows knit together as his face grew redder "W-what are you laughing at? It's… the only thing I could think of." You giggled again and gave a quick kiss on top of his nose "You're so cute, Arthur." Now his whole face—and ears—grew redder like a certain Spaniard's tomato garden.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted in my deviantart account, empressoflibraria, on 20 June 2014.  
> ______________________________________________________  
> The second one in the series! If you had read this before, it's because I turned this in with my previous account.
> 
> Iggy's tsundere side is really hard to cope with, but I'm happy I wrote some of his tsundere moments even though I was making Reader-san blush.
> 
> *Sherlockian: (n) a devoted fan of or an expert on the adventures of Sherlock Holmes.
> 
> *Doyle= Sir Arthur Conan Doyle: the author of the adventures of Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
